Broken Faith
by summerstwilight
Summary: Elizabeth finds a letter, and the past and present collide. Companion to Broken Vow. JE. Complete.
1. Broken Faith

Title: Broken Faith  
Rating: PG  
Pairings:W/E, E/N, J/E, E/OC?  
Warnings: Character deaths (in the past)  
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. points at disney They're their's.  
  
Elizabeth Turner carefully put on her dress. For the first time in four years, she was going out in public in a colored dress. People had talked of her devotion to her husband, though no one remarked on the oddity of going two years in mourning, a few months in half mourning, then back to the old black weeds. Elizabeth had been mourning a second death, that of Jack Sparrow. He had not died in the truest sense of the word, it was true, but he had become dead to her since the horrid morning where he had walked out of her house and out of her life after declairing something like love for her. She had cried when he left, but she assumed he would be back the next week, as he always was. One week had passed, then two, then three, and there was no sign of her captain. She was finally forced to accept that he had been in ernest, and had left her like every other man she'd known, the exception at the time being her father. And while Governor Swann had not physically left his daughter, he saw less and less of her, and left her at the mercy of the servants and aristocratic hawks.  
Elizabeth found herself with few friends, mainly several other Naval widows who got together every few weeks to embroder another pillow and bewail the deaths of their husbands. The fact that for some of these women that had been twenty years ago seemed trivial. It had been that group that had been her salvation. She had looked carefully at each of the women one day and thought 'They'd have done as well to throw themselves into their husbands' graves.' It suddenly dawned on her that this was exactly what she was becoming. That must stop. That brought her to today.

Today that all changed. Today she put away those hateful black dresses. Mourning had seemed such a romantic thing four years ago, even two years ago. It seemed to show a sort of solidarity with her dead husband and lost friend. Now, with the help of the 'wailing widows' as Elizabeth called them, she had come to realize that neither of them were coming back. Both Will and Jack had been sources of comfort to her, sources of strength. Now, she had to find that on her own. The four years had changed her. She did not smile or laugh as readily as she once had. Nor did she giver herself so quickly or so fully to any human being. She became aloof. Most credited it to her undying love of her dead husband. She realized that it was just her lack of trust in people. She couldn't afford to have another man break her heart.  
  
Elizabeth stepped out the front gate of her seaside cottage, basket in hand, and breathed in the sea air. It seemed to have changed. 'Maybe I'm just freer now.' she thought. Freedom. She seemed to always be imprisoned by something: her place in society; her marriage in a way, though that had been a willing imprisonment; her years in mourning; whatever it was she felt for Jack. Jack. Two years since the pirate had graced her with his presense and he still was at the front of her mind. Though she knew he was a man of his word, she had prayed every morning that she might see his distinctive figure walking down the road, and she went to sleep every evening disappointed.  
  
"Mrs. Turner!" a voice called to her. Turning, she saw that the voice belonged to a young officer. Once she might have known who he was, but she had not been near the fort since the day of James Norrington's funeral, and she would not return.  
  
"Hello." she said.  
  
"I'm Lt. Thomas, ma'am. Captain Groves asked me to deliver this package to you." and he held out a thick envelope.  
  
"Thank you." she replied, shifting her basket to the other arm to accomidate the package.  
  
"Have a good day ma'am." the officer bowed to her and turned back toward the fort. Elizabeth turned back toward her house, but decided to sit in the garden overlooking the sea rather then at the tea table as she usually did. Maybe she was afraid it would conjer up to many unbidden memories.  
  
Elizabeth turned the package over in her hands gently, the opened it. Out slipped a collection of papers, badges, and tassels. On top lay a letter written the day before.  
  
_Mrs. Turner  
  
You may not recall who I am. I served as 1st Lt. on the Dauntless at the time of your husband's death. After that, I replaced the Commodore as captain of the Dauntless. James was a very good friend of mine, almost a brother, and I could not go through his things at the time and preform my job. As such, I had his trunk and things moved into his office, which was left alone for nearly two years. Recently, I realized that I had not gone through his personal things.  
  
The enclosed items were left for you. Right before he died, James mentioned he should have liked to see you again. He felt awful for breaking his promise to Will to look after you. He was asking me to deliver something to you when he had a worse attack. He drifted in and out of conciousness the rest of the night. He never did tell me what I was to deliver to you, but I believe I may have found the items. That is what I forward to you.  
  
There were very few things that I did not know about James, so it should not come as any great shock that I knew that he loved you very much. I am convinced that he loved you until the day he died. His last words were adressed to you, though he was in a sort of delirium at the time. He said "Elizabeth, please, I love you." Though he may have been in delirium, I have no doubt that he meant those words. I pray that these items bring you a little comfort and maybe a little understanding about the man who loved you enough to release you from an engagement so you could marry for love instead of doing that himself.  
  
Cordially,  
Captain Theodore Groves  
_  
Elizabeth whiped a tear from her cheek. Turning over Groves' letter, she began to look through the stack of items left to her. She had no idea why Norrington would leave her anything. It was true, he had not married and he had to sisters or a mother left. Perhaps he thought she would know best. As she gazed through the stack, she came across letters of commendation, orders, maps, notes, the sorts of things taht would be in a sea chest. The last item in the pile was a small book. Opening it, she discovered that it was his diary. It was a thick book, bound in leather, with the initials JN burned into the cover under the Navy seal.  
Elizabeth carefully opened the book. The pages were starting to yellow, but the ink was as brilliant as if it were written yesterday. Flipping through the diary, she began to understand the man she thought she couldn't stand. She had thought him insufferable, unfeeling, out of touch with everything around him. He had started to prove her wrong on her 'grand adventure' when he rescued Will though he did not have to and released her from her engagement to him though he could just as easily married him. She found that within the pages of a small, leather-bound book, James Norrington had let himself go. He had recorded everything, good and bad. He mentioned their engagement, the many encounters with a certain pirate captain, the day she married Will.  
  
_'I believe that I finally know what it is to possess a heart_' he wrote '_For surely mine was breaking as she walked down the aisle toward Will. They both smiled at each other as though they were the only people in the church. They are each other's worlds as she would have been mine, still is mine. For I love her still, though I should not. It is not my right. I forfited that right when I gave her to Will. She was the one thing in this life that was not orderly, not bound by Naval guidelines. Bound by honor, yes, but beneath that she was free. Had I been able to be free, she might have learned to love me as I love her. But perhaps it is for the best. I do not have to worry that she is sleepless at night worrying about my well being, whether I am alive or dead. I would never cause her pain. Yet to prevent her from feeling pain, I seem to have incurred it tenfold'  
_  
Elizabeth was crying now, suddenly aware that this man had loved her a great deal more then she had thought to give him credit for. After the wedding, the entries became more sparse, as though he did not like to dwell on anything. The last entry was from before the battle. After reading it, Elizabeth went to close the book. As she did, an envelope slipped out. Stooping to pick it up, she realized taht it was addressed to her. Her name was written shakily, as though this was a great effort. Yet even through that, the handwriting was unmistakably that of James Norrington.  
  
Elizabeth carefully opened the envelope and pulled out the piece of parchment that lay within. The handwriting was strained, but readable. Slowly, she realized that this was James's last letter. And it had been written to her. Not to Groves, who called him a brother, not to a family member or officer, to Elizabeth Turner. Carefully, she read it:  
  
_Mrs. Turner,  
  
I must inform you of Will's death. I am truly sorry. He died in a duel with the captain of a privateer frigate. I fear I may have caused him slight distraction, which lead to his demise. For this, I hope you can someday forgive me. He thought of you to the last, Elizabeth. Before we engaged the privateer vessel, he approached me and said that he did not expect to survive, and that he had a sense of dread worse then when he was on the Isla de Muerta. He made me promise to care for you should he not return. I must admit that I fear I am in no condition to care for you. After Will fell, I engaged his attacker in a duel. He did not leave me unscarred. Groves will not tell me, but I know that I am dying. I hope to be able to see you one last time before I go, but if I do not, I leave you this letter. Never forget that you had the love and respect of both Will and myself. Although you did not marry me, Elizabeth, I never stopped loving you. It must seem strange to think that someone like myself could love you as deeply as someone like Mr. Turner, excuse me, Will, but it is in fact possible. When I am gone, I ask only that you remember me fondly, as you do not love me. I can ask for no more.  
  
Regards,  
James  
_  
As she read the letter, a figure slowly walked up the walkway towards the house. It paused just outside the fence, a hand resting on the post as the figure looked around, taking in the garden and it's occupent. Slowly, he walked until he stood behind her. Elizabeth herself was crying, tears threatening to fall on this precious page. The man read the letter quickly, then remarked: "Rather a lucky girl. Loved by not one, but three men. And loved the way that makes sound people insane."  
Elizabeth turned slowly and gasped when she saw who the speaker was.


	2. A Spark of Hope

Broken Faith  
Chapter 2  
Disclaimer: They're still not bloody mine.  
OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E  
  
"My dear Lisette." Henri d'Alphonse walked through the garden toward Elizabeth, who was still staring at him. She had last seen him on a dock in London, watching her sail into the distance on a ship bound for the Caribbean. That had been 12 years earlier. Henri had  
certainly changed. He was taller then she remembered, but of course that was to be expected she reminded herself. He did not wear the wig that she was so used to. Rather, his hair was long and tied at his neck. It reminded her of Will's hair. She shook her head to dislodge the memory. As she looked at him, she realized that he wore something like a naval uniform. His hazel eyes looked at her expectantly.  
  
"Henri." she said uncertainly. "I haven't seen you in ages. How did you find me?"  
  
Henri laughed. "I am a naval man, my dear Lisette. I have an ear in every port and an eye in every town. And you are certainly enough to keep one's eye focused." He gave her a winning smile. Elizabeth relaxed slightly and smiled back. "Besides," Henri added "I  
have kept up a lengthy correspondence with your father. You neglected to write me often enough for my liking."  
  
"Oh." Elizabeth blushed slightly under his gaze. "Well, all sorts of things happened, and I just..." Henri stopped her with a wave of his hand, dismissing her concern.  
  
"I understand. I have heard of your husband's death some years ago. I am sorry, Lisette. You should not have to endure such sorrow." He looked regretfully at her thin, white face. "You have changed. You were the most beautiful girl I knew. And yet you do not dress like it! Grey dress, sloppy hair, tsk tsk. You are wasting away here. You should come back with me."  
  
"But, Henri" she protested "I haven't seen you in ages. Come, it's nearly tea time. You must tell me what you've done with yourself this whole time." Elizabeth rose from her seat, grabbing her basket, the letters stuffed unceremoniously into the basket, her trip to town forgotten in her new excitement and confusion. Henri followed her into house.  
  
"Please, sit down. I would show you into the parlor, but we don't actually have one. We always use the kitchen to entertain." lizabeth set the basket on the sideboard, indicated a seat, then turned to busy herself with tea preparations. Henri cast a glance at the contents of the basket, then turned to the offered chair.  
  
"I assume you know what has been happening out here." Elizabeth offered, her back to Henri as she rooted through the almost bare cabinets for something worth serving.  
  
"Yes, your father has kept me informed. I believe he intended me to come down here and marry you, at least until you had a more local offer." Henri said good naturedly.  
  
"Oh, you mean James. Yes, he was a good man. I never realized how much he actually loved me until..." she cut of her sentence. Some things were to intimate, even for old friends. If Henri noticed, he did not persue the subject.  
  
"Yes, when he became interested in you, I realized I better do something with my life. Up to that point I was quite the court dandy-"  
  
"You always were, Henri. You were quite a fond of the ladies." Elizabeth chuckled.  
  
"They were quite fond of me. But I digress. I returned to France when I was 15 and became a midshipman with the French Navy."  
  
"Why is it that all the men I love and the men who love me are _all_ attracted to the sea." Elizabeth mused.  
  
"Perhaps because you are not unlike her." Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, but motioned for him to continue. "The sea is beautiful, passionate, unpredictable. You surely know that you are all of these things. You bear a great deal of resemblance to her, Lisette, whether you realize it or not."  
  
"I am not a cruel mistress like her." Elizabeth said bitterly. "She took my husband from me, my only protector, and took the other men who cared for me away as well, as though Will was not enough." She sniffled back a tear and turned to Henri. "I am sorry, Henri. After four years, you would think I would have accepted this."  
  
"No." he whispered softly. "When the sea claims one you love, it is not unreasonable that you hold it against her. That is why I joined in the service to my country. Not out of loyalty, but out of a desire to tame the thing that would divorce me from she whom I loved above all others." Henri looked at Elizabeth in a way that reminded her of Will. She turned around, unable to remain under the intense gaze.  
  
"And after you joined the Navy?" she said, strained.  
  
Henri looked at her a moment before continuing. "I made my way through the ranks rather quickly. I had my own command several years ago. I became bored with military life. So many rules. So, I acquired my own ship and started out on my own."  
  
"What do you do on this ship of yours?"  
  
"Merchant shipping." he answered quickly. Elizabeth raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. She turned from her labor and set a plate of tea sandwiches on the table, followed by two cups and saucers.  
  
"I'm sorry that's all I have. I had meant to go into town today and buy something else, but I received a letter and then you came so I never made it."  
  
"Quite all right, my dear." Elizabeth smiled at him in thanks as she set out the sugar and cream.  
  
"Is there anything else I can get you?"  
  
"Only your company." he smiled. Elizabeth sat down and began to pour tea.  
  
"I have told you about my comings and goings, perhaps you could tell me about yours?" Henri said as he sipped his tea.  
  
"You said my father had told you about me."  
  
"He did, but his letters leave...much to be desired."  
  
Elizabeth laughed, the closest thing to a real laugh in four years. "Father was never a good letter writer. And I'm sure he left out the most interesting parts." Henri smiled at her, encouraging her to tell her stories.  
  
They spent the afternoon telling stories. She told him about Will and James and her adventure with the undead pirates. In turn, he told her of some of the more interesting sea battles he had fought in. He conviently forgot about one battle with a Royal Navy warship several years earlier, but all of the other stories were true. Well, as true as they can be when retold by a sailor. He was in the middle of telling her about a narrow escape he had in London, a case of mistaken identity he said, when she chanced to glance at the clock.  
"Dear me! We've been here all afternoon! It's nearly six. I promised Father I would go up and have dinner with him, and he never eats after six-thirty." On impulse, she added "Come with me. I'm sure Father would be delighted to see you"  
  
"I would, dear Lisette, but alas, this voyage was not solely for the pleasure of seeing you again. I have a dinner appointment and some very important business to conduct." he gave her a kiss on the hand. "I would, however, be honored if I could share lunch with you tomorrow." He looked up at her in a way that made it almost impossible to say no.  
  
"Where shall we eat?"  
  
"I have a room down at the inn in town, what is it called again? It does not matter. They have a private room, and their food is rather good. Shall I meet you down there at, say, 12:30?"  
  
"That would give me time to do my shopping." Elizabeth mused. "All right, 12:30.  
Goodbye, Henri. It was wonderful to see you again."  
  
"A demain, Lisette." he said, kissing her hand once more before walking out the door. Elizabeth paused for a moment, then ran to the garden gate to watch him walk down the road. He paused at then end of the lane and turned, saw her, and waved. She waved until she could no longer see him. Turning, she walked slowly into the house, her mind on the lunch appointment the following afternoon. She swept dreamily into the house and began sweeping the dishes into the sink. It was only the sight of the clock that sent her flying out of her daydream into her room to pull on a dinner dress.  
  
A/N: Okay, originally that was Jack standing at the garden gate. However, my muse took over and created Henri while I was icing my knee (I am the only person I know who can fall down stairs just standing there.) So, that's Henri. The next chapter is going to go into his character more. Don't worry, Jack will appear again, it's just going to take him awhile. I know, two years should be long enough, but Jack is a curious character, and he writes himself. 


	3. A Dinner Engagement

Broken Faith  
Chapter 3  
Disclaimer: They're still not bloody mine.  
OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E  
  
Henri searched the dimly lit room. "The Gathering Place" was the only pub in Port Royal. It's patrons were the seedier dregs of society. There was no one there who would recognize Henri, and even if there was, they wouldn't tell, for it would betray their own presence. Henri slid into a secluded booth and called for a rum. He had just received it when a shadowy figure slid silently into the booth across from him.  
  
"I did not think you were coming." Henri said.  
  
"A chance at the Black Pearl? I wouldn't miss it, even if I must condescend to show up in such a place as this." the figure sneered.  
  
"And the terms of our little bargain?"  
  
"You receive your reward for killing Norrington. You receive a letter of marque when you hand over Sparrow."  
  
"A letter of marque." Henri said wistfully. "I shall need a guarantee that it won't be taken from me again. I almost had to turn pirate...or legitimate." Henri winced at the thought.  
  
The figure laughed "Is legitimacy so distasteful?"  
  
"One can only stand so much of it. Illegitimacy lends a certain...spice to life." Henri grinned sardonicly.  
  
"You know that the King is a creature of whims and passion. You shall have to prove your worth to maintain your legitimate illegitimacy."  
  
"For what I'm delivering, I damn well better have an irrevocable letter of marque, or I shall hide Sparrow myself." Henri examined his rings, a bored expression on his face. He sighed. "I ought to have a right to all the crown jewels of France for what I do for the throne."  
  
"Don't get conceited, my friend. Besides, what would they say to an Englishman taking the crown jewels of France so as to pay his hired pirate?" Both men laughed. The figure flipped a gold coin onto the table, then vanished as quickly and effectively as he had come. Henri sat back, savoring his rum, and thinking of the gold that was soon to come his way.

Elizabeth smoothed down her hair as she walked briskly toward the governor's mansion. Ever since she'd seen Henri that afternoon she couldn't stop a silly little half smile from appearing on her face. She couldn't help but feel a slight twinge, as though she were being disloyal to the memories of Will and James, and disloyal to that fragile little hope she had held, buried though it was, that Jack would come back someday. But Will and James were dead, she reminded herself, and probably Jack, though the man had an unnerving habit of not dying when he should. After all, why shouldn't she have lunch with Henri? Both Will and James would want her to be happy, and it was just lunch with an old friend. Wasn't it?  
  
"My dear, you are unusually quiet." the governor remarked. "Is something the matter?"  
  
"No, no nothing is the matter, Father." Elizabeth said quietly. "I had a visitor today."  
  
"Oh? One of the ladies from town?" the governor tried to look interested for Elizabeth's sake, but secretly he rather disliked her new acquaintances. Always carrying on about this or that, they were, and Elizabeth had grown dreadfully pale since she had taken up their association.  
  
"No. Actually, it was Henri d'Alphonse." The governor chocked on his water. "You remember him, Father. He was quite a friend when we were still living in England."  
  
"Yes, I remember the boy quite well. You were rather fond of him, weren't you?"  
  
"Yes, for a time." Elizabeth said dismissivly. "He says he struck up quite the correspondence with you."  
  
"We would right from time to time. He was rather fond of you. I dare say if Norrington, may he rest in peace, hadn't desired your hand I would have pushed for a union between you and Henri."  
  
Elizabeth smiled to herself. Even if Henri had not told her that, she wouldn't have been surprised. Elizabeth picked at her food, letting her father's response float through the thick Caribbean air.  
  
"What did you and Henri talk about?" her father finally inquired.  
  
"Oh, this and that." she replied airily. "I told him about my adventure with Barbossa, and he told me about some of his sea adventures. He had led a rather exciting life, though he is only a few years older then me." Elizabeth quickly took a bite of her salad, so as to avoid her father's questions. Her father waited patiently.  
  
"Perhaps we should invite him to dinner some night. Is he still in Port Royal?"  
  
"Yes." Elizabeth paused. "Actually, I had promised to eat lunch with him tomorrow." Elizabeth quickly took a sip of water to avoid her father's startled expression.  
  
"Elizabeth, is that entirely proper?"  
  
"Why shouldn't I take lunch with an old friend?"  
  
"Because you are a widow." her father protested.  
  
"I've been a widow for four years, Father. Will is not coming back!" Elizabeth's cheeks flamed red and her eyes brimmed with tears. "Please, Father." she implored.  
  
He looked thoughtfully at his daughter and sighed. "I worry about you, you know. Four years you have spent in mourning when most women would spend no more then two, except, of course, your new friends." he tried not to let his annoyance with them seep into his voice. Through her tears, Elizabeth managed to laugh.  
  
"I like them no more then you do Father. But continue."  
  
He reached across the table and held her hand, looking down at the gold band that Elizabeth continued to wear. "I want you to be happy, my dear. I believe Will would too. If you want to go to lunch with Henri, I will not forbid you."  
  
"Thank you, Father. But, if I may ask, why did you not wish me to go to lunch with him? You yourself wished to invite him to dinner."  
  
"That, my dear, would be an event at which you would not be alone with him." Elizabeth stared at her father incredulously. "Are you suggesting anything-"  
  
"No, no, my dear. It is just that Henri is not _known_ here-"  
  
"Oh, Father." Elizabeth rolled her eyes. "You worry entirely too much about your reputation."  
  
The Governor bristled. "I am the governor of this island! One cannot be too careful."  
  
"Oh, Father." Elizabeth laughed. He stared at her a moment, then smiled. They both turned their attention back to the meal at hand.  
  
"Still, oughtent we invite him to dinner? Introduce him to some people?" the governor suggested hesitantly. Elizabeth looked up and smiled indulgently.  
  
"I'll bring it up. Will that satisfy you?" The governor nodded, and they finished the rest of their meal in companionable silence. 


	4. The Return of Jack Sparrow

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except the odious Henri (I love him though. Sort of.) Nor do I own the song that Jack 'remembers'. It's called 'Mi Mancherai' and it's from the movie 'Il Postino (The Postman).' The version I quote is the one released by Josh Groban on his album 'Closer' and it was pretty much the inspiration for this chapter.

OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 4

Jack Sparrow sat in his cabin, looking out at the sea. It had been almost 5 years since he had rescued his beloved Pearl from Barbossa, but there were still traces of his presense in the cabin. The ornate curtains and table were gone, but Jack had held onto the silver and such.

'Five years.' He thought. 'Has it really been so long?'

To look at him, an observer would not have thought that a day had passed. His hair still hung in dreadlocks, trinkets woven throughout. He wore the same ragged coat, the same battered hat, the same handkerchief across his forehead. But his eyes had changed. They were darker, as dark as they had been in the first years after the Pearl left him. Yet here he sat on his ship. She was his, no one else's. So why had that suddenly stopped mattering to him?

Jack was humming to himself when Anamaria entered quietly. She took one look at her captain and sighed. Jack turned around at the sound.

"Ye're one sorry sight, Jack."

"Captain, love." He said softly.

"Fine. _Captain_ Jack, ye're a sorry sight."

"Am I?" he did not turn away from the sea.

"What was that tune you were humming?"  
"Something I learned from an Italian lass. Met her in London."  
"Ye've been to London?"  
"I wouldn't have so many hanging offenses if I hadn't." he tried to smile.

"What was the song?" Anamaria turned the conversation back to that.  
"Some Italian folk song. She sang it all the time. Taught it to me. Told me she'd hum it when she got lonely, missed her husband."

Anamaria shook her head. "It never mattered if they were married or not, did it?"  
"Only once." He said quietly.

"Elizabeth." Anamaria guessed. "I don't know what you see in her."  
"Neither do I. But I miss her. God help me, I miss her."  
"You must, to invoke God. You never believed in him before."  
"Sure I did love. What do you think the sea is?" Jack finally turned to her. Anamaria looked at him with surprise and worry. He was without kohl, something she had never seen before. He was growing thinner, and he seemed less groomed then he usually did, which was something that was hard to achieve.

"You do miss her don't you?" Anamaria said softly.

"Aye."

"How long has it been, Jack."

"Near two years." Jack tried not to look mournful. "I thought I had a chance, Anamaria. I've never _loved_ someone before. My mother left me alone when I was a wee one, alone on the streets of London. I wasn't even supposed to make it. But they clearly didn't know I was Captain Jack Sparrow."  
"You weren't then." She reminded him.

"That's true. But I am now."  
"I've never known Captain Jack Sparrow to give up on anything. Or anyone. Ten years until you got your Pearl back. Why give up on Elizabeth?"  
"Because the Pearl wanted me" Jack came as close to crying as he had in his entire life. Anamaria reached out and took his hand.

"Jack, women are strange creatures. I'm one and I can't figure them out. Maybe, maybe you misunderstood her. Maybe she didn't know what to do. She was always sort of a spiritless thing,..."  
"She wasn't!" Jack defended his lady fair, even when she had abandoned him. "Clearly, you've never met her."

"She was on the Interceptor when the Pearl caught us, you'll recall."

"Not her best moment, I'm sure."  
"Jack, I'm trying to comfort ye over a lass I never liked. Could ye work with me?"  
Jack smiled. "No. That's when things get interesting." Anamaria slapped him on the arm, though not hard. "Should I go back?"  
"Do ye want to?"  
"Yes."  
"So go!" Anamaria shook her head and muttered to herself.

"What was that love?"  
"I never thought I would have to make Jack Sparrow's mind up for him."  
"Yes well, we all have our low moments. Oh, and love?"

"Aye, I know. It's Captain Jack Sparrow." Anamaria smiled to herself as she walked back onto the deck to change the course. Jack turned back to his window, the image of a lithe, raven haired lass dancing by firelight merging with the image of a thin, honey haired maid. Slowly, the words came back to him:

_Mi mancherai mi mancherai_

_Perche vai via?  
Perche l'amore in te se spento?  
Perche, perche?  
Non cambiera niente lo so_

_E dentro sento te_

_Mi mancherai amore mio_

_Mi gardo e trovo un vento dentro me_

_E l'allegria, amica mia_

_Va via con te_

A/N: Translation was found at grobania dot com under lyrics. I used a chorus and the last little bit, so if anyone gets lost let me know and I'll put the translation at the beginning of the next chapter.


	5. Nightingale

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except the roadblock in the relationship of Jack and Elizabeth (aka Henri d'Alphonse, odious villain). Also, the song that Elizabeth sings is called "Nightingale." It's an old sea shanty from about 1680 from London.

OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

A/N: Yes, this will end in J/E. Well, maybe. I haven't decided. But the final pairing is _not_ Elizabeth and Henri. As much as I love J/E, I don't know if I'd like it as much if they ended up together. After all, Jack's first loves are the Pearl and the sea. Let's just say the song "Brandy" by looking glass is worming its way into my head and inspiring later chapters. Overall, I'm not so happy with this chapter, but it had to happen. So here it is, for good or ill. Got the lyrics to Nightingale from Contemplator dot com.

Chapter 5: Nightingale

Henri had been in port for a week when Jack landed. He, of course, had no knowledge of Henri's presence. Had he, it is likely that he would not have returned, but left Elizabeth to her unfortunate lover. He did return though, and found himself hopelessly entangled in the affair.

Jack came without sending word, as was his want. He did not believe a pirate should announce himself. He was slightly wary, worried that Elizabeth would send him away in favor of some dandy not unlike Will. As he walked up the lane to her cottage, he heard a laugh resonating in the garden. He stopped dead in his tracks. It sounded like Elizabeth. But it couldn't _be_ Elizabeth. In the four years since Will's death she had not done much laughing, and she certainly hadn't laughed for just anyone. Jack peered around the corner and was shocked at the sight that greeted him.

Elizabeth was indeed laughing, head back, rosy cheeked, whole heartedly laughing. Next to her stood a man, a dandy really. He wore a trimmed jacket in the latest fashion, breeches of what appeared to be high quality linen, and no wig. Jack figured that the mysterious creature was from the continent, and not long removed at that. And there he stood in front of Elizabeth instead of Jack. At first, he seemed a total stranger, but Jack had the uncomfortable feeling that he had seen this man somewhere before.

"Honestly, Henri." Elizabeth giggled.

"Honestly, what?" he teased. "I am not wrong. You are beautiful and I love your singing voice. For me, Lisette?"

"Flattery will get you nowhere." Elizabeth protested lightly as she sat at the piano. "What shall I play?"

Henri contemplated this. "Something about the sea." he said finally. "Something that reminds me why I love her."

"Men with their love affairs with the sea." Elizabeth sighed. "I still don't forgive him for running off to sea and caring more about her then me."

"You've said yourself: she's a cruel mistress." Henri moved toward Elizabeth. "Though any man would be foolish to choose her over you."

"Oh honestly." Elizabeth said as though she did not believe him, but she was blushing anyway. She thought for a moment, then began to play a haunting sea melody. She did not sing.

"Lisette, I know this song. Sing it for me. Please." Henri asked quietly. Elizabeth obliged:

_One morning, one morning, one morning in May_

_I spied a young couple all on the highway_

_And one was a lady, so fair and so bright_

_And the other was a soldier, a brave volunteer_

_Good morning, good morning, good morning to thee,  
Now where are you going my pretty lady?  
I'm going to travel to the banks of the sea  
To see the waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.  
  
They hadn't been there but an hour or two  
Till out of his knapsack a fiddle he drew  
The tune that he played caused the vallies to ring.  
O harken, says the lady, how the nightingales sing.  
  
Pretty lady, pretty lady, 'tis time to give o're.  
O no, pretty soldier, please play one tune more.  
I'd rather hear your fiddle at the touch of one string  
Than to see the waters gliding, hear the nightingales sing.  
  
Pretty soldier, pretty soldier, will you marry me?  
O no, pretty lady that never can be.  
I've a wife back in London and children twice three.  
Two wives in the army is too many for me._

The last note hung in the air, and for a short while neither one talked. "It's rather a sad song, is it not?" Elizabeth said by and by.

"Only at the end." Henri agreed. He glanced at the clock, which read five. "I must take my leave of you, Lisette." He reached for her hand and kissed it gently. "Until tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." she said, a faint pink stealing across her cheeks. Henri tipped an imaginary cap at her, then walked out the door and down the lane. Both Jack and Elizabeth watched him go. Elizabeth turned back to the house, smiling to herself. Jack looked between her happy face and the retreating figure. Perhaps he had made a mistake in coming back here. Perhaps he had been foolish to think that Elizabeth held any feeling toward him, except maybe animosity. Jack turned as if to go, then paused. He had come this far, risking the hangman's noose to see her. He would not leave without at least that.

Jack slipped in through the side kitchen door, as he had so many times before. Elizabeth had her back to him. She stood over a basin, rinsing several plates and cups. The ruins of the tea meal sat on the table. Jack picked quietly at the remains of dainty sandwiches and fruit tarts. He certainly wasn't going to let any of it go to waste. He hadn't seen cucumber sandwiches in...well, he hadn't ever actually seen cucumber sandwiches, which meant it would be especially tragic to let them be tossed out. Elizabeth was humming that shanty to herself.

"These are rather good, love. Did you make them yourself?" Jack asked. Elizabeth dropped the plate she was scrubbing. It broke against the side of the basin, but she took no notice of it.

"Jack?"

"Aye. The sandwiches, love. Did you make them? They're rather good." Jack eased out a chair and dropped onto it with careless grace.

"I did." Elizabeth stammered. "I can cook you know."

Jack laughed cordially. "Well, I wouldn't have thought you could. Not very filling though, are they?" he flicked away a scrap of bread and reached for a tart.

"What are you doing here?" Elizabeth asked when she had regained enough composure to string five words together coherently.

"I was in the area, thought I'd drop by and see how you were getting on." he glanced around himself. "Don't seem to be too badly off."

"No, I'm not." Elizabeth said frankly. "I suppose you expected me to be wasting away?"

"Now I didn't say that." Jack held up both hands. "I merely didn't think you'd be this well off. Gentlemen callers and such."

"Gent-? Oh." Elizabeth blushed. "You mean Henri."

"Yes. Henri." Jack made a face as he uttered the name. "Frenchman, love? Surely you could do better then that. There are quite a few upstanding Englishman who could keep you company. Even more not upstanding gentlemen." he flashed a grin at her.

"Henri is not French."

"If he wasn't, his name would be Henry."

"Oh, well, he's French by _birth_, yes. But I grew up with him. He was raised English."

"Can't take the French out of him, dear."

"Is there something wrong with the French, Mr. Sparrow?" Elizabeth said frostily.

"Captain, love, you know better then that. And personally, I couldn't care one way or 'tother, but there's no love lost between the English and the French."

"Henri d'Alphonse is an upstanding gentleman, and far better then you." Elizabeth said loftily, retreating to what she considered the 'moral high ground.'

"Your Henri is-" Jack began angrily. "Wait, what was his name love?"

"Henri d'Alphonse of Lyon and London. Why?"

Jack bounded out of his chair, knocking it over in his eagerness to get out the door.

"Jack?" Elizabeth asked, her anger momentarily forgotten."

"Business, love." Jack said, leaning in and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "I shall return." And he gave her an over exaggerated court bow, and ran out the door as she threw her dishtowel after him.


	6. The Gathering Place

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except the roadblock in the relationship of Jack and Elizabeth (aka Henri d'Alphonse, odious villain) Oh, and the pub, I guess.

A/N: I lost my train of thought in the middle of this chapter, so if it seems to veer a little one way or the other, that's why. I think I got it back on track though.

OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 6: "The Gathering Place"

Jack sauntered down toward the harbor. To be perfectly fair, it was as close to actual running as he could get, but the fact still remained that it was a saunter. Upon reaching the harbor, Jack slowed to his usual meandering walk. Glancing around to assure himself that there were no soldiers to see him, Jack made his way through the streets of Port Royal, catching a glimpse of Henri as he disappeared around a corner. Jack picked his way through the crowd, eyes focused on the flamboyant hat that Henri was wearing.

Henri glanced around, checking to see if he recognized anyone. Satisfied, he slipped down a side alley. Jack stopped at the entrance to the alley and looked down. Henri was making his way toward the northern most part of the town: the only part of town that Jack could walk freely in. It was the section of town that possessed the sins and vices favored by the citizens of Port Royal. Jack raised one eyebrow in surprise at Henri's choice of location, but followed. He was no stranger to the area.

Henri ducked inside the pub, Jack several feet behind him. Henri slid into a booth, fingers nervously tapping the table. A mug of beer was brought to him. Several minutes later, a hooded man slid into the seat opposite Henri. Jack strained to hear the conversation.

"Any news of the Pearl?" Henri asked.

"Yes. She's off the coast, out just far enough that it would be an inconvenience for Groves to go after her. He wouldn't anyway, he hold Sparrow in too high regard."

"Yes, well, you have your pirate now, you can go off and collect the reward." Henri sounded bored. "Speaking of rewards..."

"You'll not receive yours until I have Sparrow in hand, which I haven't."

"That wasn't the agreement."

"When you undertake shady dealings, my boy, agreements mean little. Who are you going to report it to, the Royal Navy?"

"They've been wringing their hands together for years trying to catch a French privateer." Henri said, disgusted.

"Exactly. We work on my terms." The man turned as if to go. "Oh, about your letter of marque..."

"Do not deny me that, or I will filet you as you stand." Henri said, anger rising in his voice.

"I only wanted to know what name you wanted on it. You go by so many." The light glinted off the man's face for a moment, revealing a sarcastic looking smile.

"Adrian Lyon. That's my privateer persona."

"Very good. As I say, when I have the pirate, you will get your money and your letter."

"I should have the money now." Henri grumbled. "He's been dead four years now."

"I don't give the money, I just distribute it. You can take it up with someone who cares if you like." And the man disappeared into the crowded pub.

Henri shook his head as he raised his mug. "I always wondered why Frenchmen don't like Englishman. I think I know now." He murmured, then drained the mug. After he had put away two more mugs of beer, Henri stumbled toward the door, smashing his hat on his head. He wandered through the crowded streets, ignoring the various salesmen of vice that had positioned themselves along the way. Following him, Jack stayed in the shadows, hardly noticed, something that was not easy for him. He followed Henri as far as the inn at which he was staying, then watched as the drunken man mounted the stairs with some trouble and walked to his room. Certain that he would not be stirring anytime that night, Jack walked back down to the harbor.

Henri sat on his bed woozily. 'Perhaps that was a little too much beer.' He thought. He leaned back and thought over the day. It had been fine until this nasty business about the pirate. But then, he had spent it with Elizabeth. She was a lovely girl, but she was starting to bore him. Still, it would be a smart marriage, and Elizabeth knew better then to ask questions. Hadn't she been rescued by a blacksmith and a pirate? Pirate... what was that pirate's name? It seemed so familiar. Henri saw Elizabeth, sitting at her dining room table telling him the story, dancing in front of him through his alcoholic fog.

"Yes," it seemed to say "I know it's hard to believe, kidnapped and chased by undead pirates, and rescued by another pirate, but Jack wasn't an ordinary sort of a pirate. He was more human than any other pirate I've met, and I met quite a few during that time. No, Captain Jack Sparrow was a good man and a good pirate. And a good friend."

"Sparrow." Henri murmured. "Sparrow!" He sat up, suddenly sober by the realization that the Sparrow of her story was the self same Sparrow he was handing over to the disgruntled Englishman. He had known that Sparrow popped in and out of Port Royal, that was how he planned to catch him, sitting somewhere in the two day sail from Tortuga to Port Royal. Now, a new plan was forming. And suddenly, he realized why Sparrow came to Port Royal.

"Pirate's wench." he said, realizing slowly that the Lisette who had left England twelve years earlier was not the Lisette in the beach cottage. No, not at all. Henri ground his teeth, upset that he was taken in by a woman who associated with pirates, especially as closely as she did with Sparrow. It never occurred to Henri how deep his hypocrisy ran, but then, he had already jumped to conclusions to many times to notice the fall.


	7. Midnight musings

Broken Faith  
Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except the roadblock in the relationship of Jack and Elizabeth (aka Henri d'Alphonse, odious villain. Or Adrian Lyon, whichever you prefer.)  
OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 7

Jack found himself back on a small ship, anchored in the harbor. If anyone asked, the _Lady Fair_ was a small merchant vessel, shuttling sugar cane between the Caribbean islands. She did move sugar cane around, but that was not the only thing she transported. For the moment, she found herself with her most precious cargo to date. He was sitting in the captain's cabin, waving his fingers through the flame of a candle, contemplating his next move, or rather, Henri's next move, which would dictate his own.

Jack recognized the name, though there were few who would. Henri d'Alphonse was better known as Adrian Lyon to men who sailed the high seas. The Frenchman, as he was referred to sometimes, was not a complimentary moniker. He was a privateer just starting the make a name for himself. The French liked him just as much as the English, who liked him not at all. The French only tolerated him because, despite the lack of name recognition, he was one of their top privateers. Sometimes, however, Henri went to far even for their tastes. He'd been sidelined for nearly four years after filleting one too many officers of foreign powers. Still, he had collected handsomely on their deaths. Someone always wanted the head of a powerful navy man.

It was that knowledge that bothered Jack the most. Privateers were not liked by pirates either. To illegitimate for society, and too legitimate for pirates, they were. Somehow, being in the middle allowed them to get away with looser morals then a Tortugan wench. One of the loosest was Adrian Lyon.

Jack suspected that Lyon was more involved with some of the nefarious goings on around Jamaica then he would admit to. In particular, Jack was reminded of the frigate _Boston_, which had encountered the _Dauntless_ four years earlier. The captain of the Boston at the time was a Frenchman. He had not been sailing as Adrian Lyon, nor as Henri d'Alphonse. Still, Jack didn't like it. The fact that the man wanted to turn him over to an overzealous British man didn't help his cause in Jack's eyes. He would have to do a little more poking around before he talked to Elizabeth, but Jack had a suspicion that Henri d'Alphonse was on board the _Boston_ four years earlier. He stared into the flame, pondering his next move.

Across town, Henri d'Alphonse was sleeping like a baby, dreaming of letters of marque and crates of gold as he handed Jack Sparrow over to his dealer. In his sleep, a slow, sardonic smile spread across his face.

While Henri slept, and Jack worried, Elizabeth Turner was sitting on her bed, staring out the window toward the sea. Until Jack had shown up, everything had been perfectly clear. To be certain, Henri had his faults, not the least of which was that he was rather stuck up, but she could do worse. Her father would approve, probably more of this marriage then her first. It would be an amicable partnership. She could move back to the continent, into the circles of society to which she belonged, away from the haunting call of gulls and the crashing of waves that reminded her of Will so much that she still cried herself to sleep some nights. Yes, she had been quite sure of what she was going to do, and then Jack had to show up and upset all her plans. She wouldn't let him, she just... wouldn't. She sighed, and looked across the bed to the empty, cold space where Will should have been lying. She married for love, once. It hadn't ended well. One couldn't marry for love if your husband sailed the seas. It was too painful.

There were many good reasons not to give Jack a second thought, not the least of which was the resemblance to Will. Not a physical resemblance, but they were cut from the same cloth, born of the same desire to sail the sea. Beyond that, he was a pirate, an unrespectable pirate. He couldn't take care of her. He couldn't even visit her in Port Royal on a regular basis. He was not the cleanest individual, he had no practical skills. She would be outcast from society if she even spoke to him civilly. Marriage, courtship, a kiss on the cheek even, were all out of the question. Oh yes, there were many good reason not to give Jack Sparrow a second thought. 'How unfortunate' she thought 'that none of them will stop me.'


	8. Inquiries

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except the roadblock in the relationship of Jack and Elizabeth (aka Henri d'Alphonse, odious villain)  
OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

A/N: Sorry about the length (or lack thereof) of the chapter. Originally, 8 and 9 were going to be the same chapter, but after I got to this point, I decided to make the chapter break. 9 will be longer, I promise. I'll probably get that up tomorrow.

Chapter 8: Inquiries

Theodore Groves sat at his desk and sighed. Four years he had been captain and essentially James Norrington's successor, and he had yet to get used to the paperwork that the position entailed. For a job that seemed to be all about the sea and ships, he had seen little of the sea and more of the sea of paperwork. Groves went through his daily ritual, separating letters from official documents and logs from inventory lists. About half way through the pile, he found an envelope addressed to him in a curious, slopping hand. Pushing the remainder of the pile aside, he opened the letter.

_Captain Groves,_

_I cannot divulge my identity at the moment. I'm afraid you would have a compulsion to come and arrest me, something that would do me no good. As such, I shall have you deliver your reply to this letter to the _Lady Fair_. She stands in the harbor and is set to sail in two days time._

_I write you regarding the death of Norrington. I know that he was killed near four years ago, but I find that the facts surrounding his death are troublesomely hazy. Perhaps you can enlighten me? In particular, I wish to know who it was who killed him. If you have no name, a description will do just as well._

_Remember, deliver your reply to the _Lady Fair_. Do not bother sending troops to capture me. I will not be there. Deliver the letter yourself. It will find it's way to me._

Groves stared at the letter. He did not recognize the handwriting, nor the tone. It struck him as odd that someone would be contacting him, anonymously no less, about a case that had been considered closed for near four years. His first thought was that of shock, his second of anger. It seemed to him that this probing was done by someone with only themselves in mind. Still, they might be able to discover James's killer, and Groves would be more then happy to see the bastard swing from the gallows. James had always told him that revenge helped no one, but Groves found that this was one time where he disagreed. Picking up a clean piece of paper, Groves dipped his quill and began to form his response.

_Sir,_

_I find this inquiry slightly shocking. Commodore Norrington's death has been considered a closed case for nearly four years. However, I shall share with you the few details that I remember._

_We were attacked by a frigate, the _Boston_. She appeared to be undermanned, so we thought a small boarding party more then capable of taking her. We were, however, mistaken. Most of the men in the party were killed. Among them was William Turner, the leader of the party. He engaged the captain of the ship in a duel. When he was killed, the Commodore jumped into the fray. He was mortally wounded by the captain, who then jumped overboard. We were eventually able to get away and lick our wounds, but by this time it was too late to save the Commodore._

_  
As to who this man was who captained the _Boston_, I do not know a name. I do know that he was a Frenchman, shorter then the Commodore by several inches. He was a sort of wirey man, and he wore no wig. His hair was tied back at his neck, not unlike the style that is favored by merchants in Port Royal. He was an extremely good swordsman, or he would not have been able to best both Turner and the Commodore. He had an air about him that reminded me of another French privateer, whose name escapes me at this time. It could not have been him though: he had had his letter of marque revoked by the king of France a few months earlier._

_That is all that I recall at this time, sir. It was a rather trying time, you understand, and though my memory is sharp with certain recollections, I am sure that they are of no use in your inquiry._

_Sincerely,_

_Captain Theodore Groves_


	9. Letters

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: Disney owns all of the characters from the movie (obviously. If it was me, then Henri wouldn't be an OC would he?)

OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 9: Letters

"Gillette!" Groves called down the hallway. He heard the officer walk slowly down the hall toward his office.

"Yes sir?" Gillette asked when he reached the captain's door.

"I have some business to attend to aboard one of the merchant vessels down in the harbor. I will be back shortly, but until I return, you shall be in charge, as always."

"Yes, sir." Gillette nodded as Groves swept past him, pulling on his coat. "As always, as always." Gillette mimicked as soon as Groves was out of hearing. "I'm always captain when there isn't anyone else to be had, but never in my own right." Gillette grumbled. He was about to turn away when he heard a door creak. In Groves's hurry, he had not latched his door completely. Gillette looked up and down the hallway, then snuck through the slightly open door.

The inside of the office had not changed much in the four years that it had been inhabited by its new owner. Papers still lay all over the room, a trunk was still shoved under the window, and a pile of blankets lay on the cot that stood in the corner. Gillette was slightly disappointed, but decided he had better leave before he was discovered. As he walked past the desk, he caught a glimpse of a letter. He tried to resist the temptation, but not as hard as he might have. Plopping down in the chair that stood in front of the desk, Gillette scanned the letter. He had been hoping to find proof of an illicit liaison, or some nefarious deed that had come back to haunt Groves. It was only an old inquiry about Norrington's death. Those had come in rather frequently several years ago. Even now, they would get one or two a year. This one, however, got a second look. The handwriting was distinctive, but Gillette did not recognize it. He stared at it for a moment, then, looking both ways, grabbed the letter and shoved it into his jacket pocket. This letter might prove useful.

A/N: Well, it was _shorter_ then chapter 8, but I'm trying! It's just that smashing all of these little chapters together to create one big one doesn't appeal to me. But I have four chapters to update with in a day!


	10. Second hand News

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I don't own anyone except the roadblock in the relationship of Jack and Elizabeth (aka Henri d'Alphonse, odious villain) Oh, and the pub, I guess.

OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 10: Second hand news

Jack received the letter while he was in the pub. One of the hands who worked on the _Lady Fair_ had been instructed to bring it to him in exchange for several gold coins. Having dispensed of the boy, Jack looked over the letter. It contained little of note, but it did confirm his suspicions. That Groves himself had recognized the similarities only helped his cause. Jack smiled grimly into his mug of rum. His suspicions had been correct, but they would do nothing but hurt Elizabeth. Still, he owed her as much as an explanation. He owed Will that much. He had little doubt that he would be found dead, strangled by ghostly hands, if he let Elizabeth carry this affair much further. Sipping his rum, he scanned the crowded barroom, and caught sight of the odious Frenchman. As before, he slipped into a slightly secluded booth and waited. Jack sidled closer so that he could hear what was being said, a challenge to be sure in a pub.

Several minutes later, the by now familiar dark figure slid into the booth opposite Henri.

"This had better be good." Henri sounded bored. "I've a governor's daughter to seduce. It pained me to break off our dinner engagement."

"You have bigger worries than whether Mrs. Turner succumbs to your charms." The figure's voice fairly dripped with sarcasm. "Someone knows who you are."

Henri paled slightly, but his voice remained light. "Oh? And how do you know?"

"I have a source inside the fort." and the man reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a tattered piece of paper.

"A letter?" Henri scoffed, not bothering to take the offered piece of paper. "You expect me to be afraid of a letter?"

"Read it, you idiot." And he shoved the paper at Henri, who scanned the page.

"'..._I find that the facts surrounding his death are troublesomely hazy. Perhaps you can enlighten me? In particular, I wish to know who it was who killed him_'" Jack leaned closer, recognizing his own letter. "'_If you have no name, a description will do just as well. Remember, deliver your reply to the _Lady Fair_. Do not bother sending troops to capture me. I will not be there. Deliver the letter yourself. It will find its way to me._' Terribly fascinating, old boy, but I don't quite understand."

The figure reached across the table and smacked Henri across the face. "What that means-" he pointed at the letter that Henri had dropped on the table "is that _someone_ has figured out who you are. Otherwise, they would not be inquiring about the captain of the _Boston_. That was you, was it not? If it wasn't, then you're trying to cheat some man out of his rightful fortune. If it was, then you have a problem."

Henri considered this for a moment. "I suppose you are right." He conceded. "We must work faster then."

"Do you have any clue who this could be? Do you recognize the handwriting?"

Henri studied the paper a bit longer. "It is rather strange, isn't it? Sort of slopping. This is someone who isn't used to writing on flat surfaces. Everything is slanted, as though making up for a slope."

The figure looked at him for a moment. "Could the slope be a ship's roll?"

"Perhaps."

"You don't suppose that Sparrow could have gotten wind of this do you?"

Henri laughed. "Jack Sparrow couldn't spell 'cat.' The man is rather ignorant. A good pirate, but no intelligence to speak of." In the dark corner, Jack balled his fists, trying not to lash out at the pompous ass and blow his cover in the process.

"He could have someone write it for him."

"The only person he knows who writes is Elizabeth and this is not her handwriting. Speaking of the charming wench, I have a dinner engagement." Henri stood up, grabbing a coat. Jack did not stay to listen to whatever words passed between Henri and his mysterious 'benefactor.' He tore out of the pub and ran through the streets of Port Royal, heedless of the other people milling about the streets. He only saw the road that lead up the hillside, to a small seaside cottage.

A/N: Aww, its Noble!Jack. Oh, and for the record, the 'mysterious figure' will be revealed before the end. Ah, revenge. It seems to motivate everyone, doesn't it?


	11. Dead Ends

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I don't own them. Disney does. But I do own Henri (and his ship, come to think of it.)

OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 11: Dead ends

Elizabeth bustled around her house, reassuring herself that everything was, in fact, in perfect order. Henri was slightly late, but he had sent a letter up saying that a business associate had urgent business and he would be up when he could.

Elizabeth went back into the dining room. It had been dusted off just for the occasion. She couldn't recall ever eating a meal in here. The kitchen had been fine for Will and her, and whatever guests they happened to have.

'None of that' she reminded herself silently. 'Will would want you to move on.' Of that she had no doubt, but somewhere, deep in her heart, she knew Will would not have cared for Henri, not even a little for her sake.

The garden gate slammed somewhat forcefully, and Elizabeth rushed as quickly as she could to the door, which was not quickly at all, considering the layers of petticoats and the corset that nipped at her waist. She reached the door as a knock thundered on the other side. Smoothing her skirt and plastering a smile on her face, Elizabeth opened the door, expecting her beau.

The sight that greeted her was anything but the one she expected. Jack Sparrow pushed past her and ran into the kitchen. Elizabeth stood, door propped open in one hand, mouth agape. Slowly, she shut the door and walked into the kitchen, a frown marring her face.

"Jack." She said, warningly. She stopped short when she saw him leaning on the table, catching his breath. "Jack, what is this all about?" she stood exasperated, hands on her hips.

"Henri." He wheezed, putting his hand up to ask for a moment. Elizabeth walked over to the cupboard, pulled out a glass, filled it, and handed it silently to Jack, who drained it in one large gulp. Setting it down on the table, he looked around himself, then motioned for her to sit down.

"Jack." She said again, questioningly.

"Henri." He began. "is not who you think he is."

"Jack Sparrow, what _are_ you talking about?" Elizabeth demanded.

"Henri d'Alphonse is the man's real name, but it is not his only name."

"What other name would he have?" Elizabeth asked, confused.

"Adrian Lyon."

"That's absurd. Adrian Lyon is a French privateer."

"Exactly, love."

"Exactly nothing. I don't know what you have against Henri, but you will not come into my house and insult him, especially when he is expected for dinner any minute." Elizabeth stood frostily. "You may go, Mr. Sparrow." She turned abruptly and exited the kitchen. Jack sat there for a moment, at a loss. Elizabeth had never not believed him before, except when he told his stories, but everyone knew you had to embellish those. No, he came into this house and told her the truth, a truth that hurt him as much as it did her, and she flung it back in his face. Jack heard the door open and close, and heard Elizabeth's voice say "Henri! It's so good to see you!" at a ridiculously high pitch. Jack shook his head and sat back in one of the chairs. There wasn't much more he could do. For once, the great Jack Sparrow was utterly helpless, and at the hands of a woman, no less.


	12. Interlude

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: What do I own? That would be nothing but Henri. And Elizabeth's lovely seaside cottage.  
OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 12: Interlude

"Ah, Lisette." Henri kissed her hand. "I am sorry I am late. Business, you know."

"No trouble." Elizabeth said gaily, almost too gaily.

"Shall we go into the dining room?" Henri gestured toward the room and offered Elizabeth his arm. She looped her arm through his and let him lead her into the room.

"What are we feasting on tonight?" Henri asked when they were both seated.

"It's a surprise." Elizabeth said, scooting her chair back, waving Henri off. "I still don't have servants, so I have to serve myself. I'll be right back." And she walked back to the kitchen. She was surprised to see Jack still sitting there.

"Jack!" she hissed. Jack raised his head from its resting place on the table to cast her a glance. "What are you doing here?"

"Sleeping." He said matter of factly.

Elizabeth rolled her eyes upward, as though taking up his presence with the deity above. "Get out of here!"

"I can't go out the front, dear Henri would see me." Jack said, rather nastily.

"Fine." Elizabeth said through clenched teeth. "Go into my bedroom."

Jack raised an eyebrow, a familiar glint coming into his eyes "Is that entirely proper, Lizzie love?"

"Just. Go." She hissed. Jack nodded his head at her and started to walk out the door. Elizabeth ran to him and dragged him away. "Not that door! That one leads straight to the dining room!"

Jack turned to face her, a smile gracing his lips, though it was a sad smile, and not one that was reflected in his eyes. "Knew that, love." He said as he walked toward the other door, passing though noiselessly toward the deserted bedroom.

Elizabeth sighed in relief, pushed an invisible hair back off her forehead, and went about the task she had come into the kitchen for in the first place.

A/N: Several short chapters, I know, but that's how it worked out. Besides, Henri would have ruined the whole thing if he'd shown up again.


	13. A proposition, of sorts

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I still don't own any of the original Pirates characters, living or deceased (as the story line dictates.) I own Henri, a pub, and a seaside cottage. And the plot bunnies.

OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 13: A proposition, of sorts.

"That was lovely, Lisette." Henri leaned back in his chair. "My compliments."

"Thank you, Henri." Elizabeth blushed slightly.

"Lisette, there is something I wish to discuss with you." Henri leaned over the table so that he was closer to her. "I have recently spoken with your father."

"Oh?" Elizabeth decided to play dumb, as though she hadn't had this conversation with her father two days earlier.

"I have asked him" Henri looked down, affecting nervousness. "I have asked him for your hand in marriage."

"Oh." Elizabeth breathed. "And what has he said?"

"It was rather funny, actually." Henri looked up at her. "He said 'As for myself, I would be more then happy to have you as a son-in-law, but you shall have to ask my daughter.' What did he mean by that? I confess I am slightly confused."

"Father doesn't feel like he can marry me off without my consent. I always end up circumventing his plans." Elizabeth laughed lightly, but her heart was not in it.

"I suppose he was referring to the blacksmith."

"You mean my first husband." Elizabeth corrected with a hint of disdain in her voice.

"Of course, darling. I suppose it comes to this, then. Will you have me? I'm an awful nice chap when you get to know me." Henri looked up at her, expectantly.

"Yes. Yes, I will marry you Henri." Elizabeth waited for the flood of joy that had come with the same promise when she had become engaged to Will. She continued to wait, but it did not occur.

Henri leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Forgive me, I forget myself. You must understand, my Lisette, that I have dreamed of you uttering those words for years."

"Of course." Elizabeth patted his hand. "I hate to sound like a bore, Henri, but I've a bit of a headache. I think I'll go lie down, if you don't mind. You should go talk to my father at any rate." She rose, uncertainly.

"Mais, oui, mon petite choux. Shall I walk you to your room?" he offered an arm.

"No." Elizabeth said hastily. "It wouldn't be proper." She added, rather weakly. "The woman in this town to talk so."

Henri bowed to her. "A demain, my love."

"Tomorrow." Elizabeth agreed.

"I shall show myself to the door. Rest yourself." He kissed her lightly on her forehead, then went to the door. After the door clicked shut, Elizabeth made the slow walk to her bedroom, willing herself to believe that Jack had simply left. He hadn't.


	14. Departure

Title: Broken Faith  
Rating: PG  
Pairings: W/E, E/N, J/E, E/OC  
Warnings: Character deaths (in the past)  
Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. points at Disney They're theirs.

A/N: Had to take this chapter down for a little bit. Found several typos that made it difficult, nye, impossible to read. Back now. Please review, I'm getting a little discouraged because I only seem to have one reader (who is very loyal and always reviews, thankyouthankyouthankyou!!!). Anyway, that's my piece. Read on.

Chapter 14: Departure

"'Ello, love." Jack called to her from his place sprawled across the bed. She shoved him off.

"I _do_ have to sleep there tonight, you know."

"What a pretty picture."

All of Elizabeth's pent up frustration was spent in a might slap across his face. She sat down on the edge of the bed and started to cry.

"What's the matter, love?"

Elizabeth simply turned over and buried her head in a pillow, muffling her cries.

"Perhaps you've been to long " Jack smiled at her.

"Jack, you're horrid." Elizabeth said into her pillow.

"Now I wouldn't say 'horrid'" Jack teased. When Elizabeth did not laugh, his smile faded. "Now, 'Lizbeth, what is the matter?"

"What does it matter to you? As I recall-" Elizabeth sat up, her last shards of pride beaming out of her tearstained eyes-"You are here only because you are a stubborn blackguard who could not stop insulting my fiancé."

"I am here to stop you from becoming his fiancée!" Jack jumped up, kicking at a pillow that lay on the ground.

"What is so objectionable about me finding another man?" Elizabeth demanded.

"First, love, he isn't me. Second, the man you chose is a bloody pirate. Third, he's the man who killed Will."

"What are you rallying on about?" Elizabeth asked tiredly.

"Henri d'Alphonse, nee Adrian Lyon, nee the captain of the bloody _Boston_, that is what I am 'rallying' on about."

Elizabeth shook her head. "First, Henri is not Adrian Lyon. Second, Adrian Lyon was not even sailing at the time of Will's-" she paused. "Lyon had had his letter of marque revoked several months earlier. Will told me about it. He was so worried up until then. Apparently this Adrian Lyon was a privateer. Everyone hated him."

Jack shook his head. "You know all this and you don't think it could be him? He's a bloody privateer! Do you know what that is? It's a pirate who betrays everyone but himself. Barbossa had more honor then Henri, or Adrian, or whatever the hell you want to call him!" Jack stomped around the room, unable to understand her defense of this man. "What possible reason do you have to marry the man?"

"I have a few, if you're willing to _sit down_ long enough to hear me." Elizabeth said, somewhat harsher then she might have.

"Oh indeed, milady, whatever the Lady Elizabeth says." Jack threw himself into a chair haphazardly. "Let's hear it."

"Henri is reliable. He makes a good deal of money." Elizabeth's eyes filled with tears. "Marrying for love doesn't _work_ when the man you love sails for a living. I loved Will perhaps more then I should have, and look what I got. Four years in weeds. As though you're any authority on love. At least when I marry Henri, I can leave this island, leave the sea. I'll be able to see the court, English and French. I shall live the life I was born to." She finished haughtily.

"I suppose my only question is do you really care so little for Will that you would marry the man who killed him?" Jack taunted.

"I'm not." Elizabeth stood up abruptly. "Don't you think you'd better go, Mr. Sparrow?"

"Ever the governor's daughter, always aware of station and perception. Never worry about marrying bloody pirates that aren't good men and happen to have forced widowhood upon you, oh no." Jack grabbed his hat and stalked out of the door.

For the first few moments after she heard the door slam, Elizabeth felt good. She felt powerful, in charge, fully in control. As the minutes ticked by, though, she could not help wondering if perhaps Jack was right.

'It's absurd.' She reminded herself. 'Surely Henri would have mentioned _something_ that would have given me a hint as to whether he was a pirate or not. No, Jack is just jealous.'

Having answered one question, she found herself immediately posed with another. What could Jack possibly be jealous about?


	15. The trap is sprung

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I own Henri, a pub, a ship, and a cottage. Notice how none of them appeared in the actual movie. That's because they're mine and I don't own the movie.

OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 15: The trap is sprung

Jack stormed back to the _Lady Fair_. He didn't know whether he was bothered more by Elizabeth's blind loyalty or the fact that she didn't believe him. Perhaps it was both. Jack stopped several streets away from the harbor. He could go back to the ship, sail away to Tortuga, and spend several weeks holed up in a little hotel with plenty of rum and wenchs. It was what he had planned on doing. He could march up to Groves and reveal Henri's identity, but he'd get himself thrown in prison for the trouble and Will wasn't there to bail him out this time. Personally, he wanted to see Henri's face when he was led away, hands shackled, Elizabeth wailing in the background. No, it appeared that the only viable option was to go and get a head start on the rum consumption. Jack turned away from the ships and headed for the pub.

He was just drinking his second rum when Henri walked in the door. Jack rolled his eyes and muttered "Does the man ever go away? All I want is my rum."

"What?" the man next to him leaned closer and screamed in Jack's ear.

"Nothing." Jack screamed back, turning back to his rum. Henri drummed his fingers nervously on the table, eyes darting around. He seemed anxious. Jack looked at his companion, who had his face in a mug of beer, and looked back at Henri. Rolling his eyes again, he got up and walked closer to where Henri sat.

"You said you wouldn't turn me in!" Henri practically screamed at the man who appeared next to the table. "You swore you wouldn't turn me in! I do your dirty work and you set a trap for me? You-"

"Henri." The figure spoke, rather angrily. "The trap wasn't for you, you incompetent oaf! It was for Sparrow. Sparrow's here, and he should have been on the bloody ship, and he wasn't. Did you tip him off?"

"Tip him off? And lose my letter of marque? Why would I do something so absurd?"

"Then he must be here. I just came up from the docks. They turned that ship inside out and upside down and he wasn't there."

Henri looked up, a look of repulsion on his face. "What if he's at Elizabeth's?"

"Would he be?"

"Possibly. He certainly wouldn't expect us to look for him there."

"She would hide him?"

"She's almost obsessed with the man. She's always liked pirates."

The two men stood up and made their way toward the door. Jack swung back so that he stood in the shadows and held his mug in front of his face, little good that it did him.

"Will she swing too?"

"You don't sound as though you'd be sorry if she did."

"It would be awful to lose another fiancé, but life is like that." Henri laughed. "If I get my money and my rights back, she matters little."

As they went out the door, Jack looked over his shoulder and glimpsed the blue of a royal navy uniform peaking out from under the coat.

A/N: Oooh, the plot thickens. Any guesses on the mysterious man?


	16. Kicking in chairs and knocking down tabl...

Broken Faith  
Disclaimer: I own Henri, a pub, a ship, and a cottage. Notice how none of them appeared in the actual movie. That's because they're mine and I don't own the movie.  
OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 16: "Kicking in chairs and knocking down tables"

A/N: This is the last update for a while. I'm off to college, so there's the packing and the unpacking and the settling and the classes and whatnot. I won't abandon the story, but it'll be slow going. The title for this chapter is from Pet Shop Boys' "West End Girls."

Jack felt through his pockets. Ah yes, there it was, the letter from the Captain. Surely that would gain him access to the man. He ought to know about this. The only drawback Jack could see was that his presence in Port Royal was known. He would have to disguise himself. Jack looked out the window. The moon was behind clouds at the moment. That meant a cloak, if procured, would provide enough of a disguise. Jack looked through the mass of people. Ah, there was such a fellow as could use a lightening of his load. And what a lovely black cloak he was wearing.

Jack emerged from the pub wrapped in the long, black cloak. He found the streets to be largely empty. Even for a town as quiet as Port Royal, there was always _someone _out on the streets at any time of the day or night. A large roar went up in the area of the docks.

'Ah.' Jack thought. 'They've all gone to see me get arrested. So sorry I couldn't make it.' He walked rapidly through the deserted streets. As he turned up the road toward the fort, he glanced down at the harbor. A mass of people were gathered around the _Lady Fair_, and her crew was lined up along the dock. The place was aglow with the light from the torches the crowd carried.

As he stared down at the growing crowd, Jack paused. What was he doing? He was going to be walking into the fort, the place where all these men _lived_, and just expected them to help him? He didn't even know if the Captain was there. All he had were a handful of suspicions. For a moment, he considered turning back. He had warned Elizabeth, it was all he was bound to do. He could go and sail away and leave Port Royal to rot, Henri and Elizabeth included. But...but that wasn't his wont. He had not abandoned either Elizabeth or Will to Barbossa. It seemed he was the one always being abandoned: by his mother, by Barbossa, by Will, by the Pearl. No, the Pearl was always taken from him, she never abandoned him.

With such a grand tradition, he shouldn't have felt bad about leaving Elizabeth to her precious Henri. He shouldn't have, but he did. He remembered the last time he had been in the fort. He had had a hangman's noose around his throat. Judging by current conditions, it didn't have the desired effect, but only because Will had stood between him and Norrington. Loyal, stupid Will. He'd risked his life to save Jack's, with no regard for anyone, including Elizabeth. Shouldn't he at least return the favor? Jack turned back up the road toward the fort.

Elizabeth was locked in her bedroom when a heavy knock came at the door. Thinking it was Jack, she stayed on her bed, tears streaming down her face. She had forgotten Jack's penchant for using side doors and windows. A caller at the front door would not be him.

The next thing she heard was the splintering of wood. Gasping, she stood up and walked toward the door. As she reached the entryway, the door burst into pieces. Elizabeth screamed.

"Elizabeth!" Henri bounded through the door, catching her as she sank to the floor.

"Henri?" she said, eyes focusing on his face. "Oh, Henri. I thought it was-"

She was going to say "Jack", but Henri cut her off. "Burglars, I know. I told the idiots not to break down the door but they don't take orders from me. Lisette, Lt. Gillette from the garrison is here. There's a pirate loose, and they want to check all the houses in the area."

"Oh?" Elizabeth looked past Henri to see Lt. Gillette. The years had not been very kind to him. He was pudgier then she remembered, and there was a scowl on his face that might have been intended for a smile. "Good evening, lieutenant."

"Good evening Miss Swann- Mrs. Turner, I beg pardon."

Elizabeth waved a hand, dismissing it. "It has been a long time, Lieutenant. What, nearly four years."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Not since the commodore's funeral." Elizabeth mused, filled with images from that day.

"That's right ma'am. A sad day for us all."

"Yes, it was." Elizabeth agreed softly. "But I trust there is a reason other then an old friendship that you are here, and have broken down my door."

"Yes, ma'am. There is a pirate loose, you must remember the chap. Jack Sparrow."

"I remember him. He's rather famous, you know."

"With your history with the man, I should think you would be glad to see him apprehended."

"My history?"

"Yes ma'am, the 'incident' five years ago."

"Oh yes. I haven't forgotten. I simply wonder why I should wish ill upon the man who helped Will rescue me."

A look passed between Henri and Gillette that Elizabeth did not understand. She looked from one to the other.

"What has this to do with me?'

"Lisette, the lieutenant would like to search the house. Just to see if this pirate has hidden himself away."

"You could have done that without breaking down my door." Elizabeth snipped. "Now I shall have to go stay with Father. I wouldn't dream of sleeping in an unlocked house with no door. If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I shall go pack." Elizabeth rose from the floor with all the dignity that became her station and walked back to her bedroom.


	17. Interview with an officer

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I own Henri, a pub, a ship, and a cottage. Notice how none of them appeared in the actual movie. That's because they're mine and I don't own the movie.  
OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E  
Chapter 17

A/N: I'm back! College has been waaaaaay to much work, and getting back to my stories was nearly impossible. This chapter has been sitting on my computer, half finished, for something like 3 months. Finals are next week, but after that I'm going to finish this one (finally!) If this chapter seems short or doesn't flow, it's because I've taken three months to write it

"Captain, someone is here to see you." A lieutenant stood at attention at the door to Groves's office.

"Can't you see I'm busy?" Groves snapped. "Gillette has run off to God knows where with several garrisons, and there is a ship in the harbor that could be carrying a pirate!"

"Sir, he says he has information about the Commodore."

Groves blanched. Sinking into his chair, he pushed aside the papers that he had been looking at. "Credible?" He asked.

"Appears so, sir."

"Very well, send him in." The lieutenant saluted him, then walked out of the office, down a corridor. Groves sat in his chair and stared at the old battered sea chest in the corner of the room that, though scarred and bruised, still bore the distinct initials "JN." Groves had spent his off hours, which lay few and far between now, to search for the dark Frenchman who had killed his captain, his brother. There had been nothing. There were no privateers of note in the water, and certainly none would have been French. Their best had been out of the water.

"Captain." A clocked figure entered the room, bowing his hooded head slightly at Groves, who gestured for the man to be seated.

"The lieutenant says you may have information about the death of Commodore Norrington."

"Aye." The candlelight flickered across the figure, revealing several glinting teeth, almost certainly bared in a Cheshire cat smile. "I know who did it."

"You know who did it?!" Groves exclaimed. "You are bound to tell me."

"I know more then that, Captain, but information is not free or cheap."

"Name your price."

"Firstly, there is a reward outstanding for the death of the dear Commodore. I would like the same sum in return for his killer. Secondly, you must pardon me of my prior sins."

"I must know what they are."

"You know what they are, Captain. You should have no problems." The man chuckled. "Thirdly, you must arrest the two men I am about to implicate."

"That goes without saying."

"No, it does not, since you know both of the men in question. And know of one of their fiancée's, I wager. Pretty lass. Now, do we have an accord?" The man held his hand out toward the Captain. Groves noticed that it was the left hand. He looked warily at the man. "Lost it in a fight at sea." The man answered the unspoken question that hung in the air. Groves reached out uncertainly to grasp the man's hand.

"Agreed."

"Agreed. The man who killed your Commodore is Henri d'Alphose, nee Adrian Lyon. His accomplice is one Lt. Gillette."

"You swore an oath you would tell me who actually killed the Commodore!"

"So I did. And Henri d'Alphonse is Adrian Lyon."

"You've no proof."

"Other then several conversations overheard at a pub, which took place between Henri and your Gillette. And Gillette called him Adrian Lyon."

"Lt. Gillette would never do that."

"Do you know where he is right now?"

"No." Groves flushed red, angry at the stranger for knowing so much.

"I'd wager he is at the house of Elizabeth Turner."

"Why would he be at Mrs. Turner's house?"

"Because he's looking for me." Jack threw back the hood that had concealed his face. Groves face registered shock. "Now you promised me immunity." Jack reminded kindly.

Groves sputtered "Jack Sparrow?!"

"Funny seeing me here, isn't it?" Jack smiled, enjoying Groves's discomfort despite the situation, then turned serious. "Now then, Captain, we had an accord. I do not take to double crossers very well, as I think you well know."

"I cannot believe that an officer in His Majesty's Navy would ever work with a man who killed his commanding officer, nor do I believe Mrs. Turner's fiancé would engage in nefarious activities."

"Fine." Jack stood up and went toward the door, pausing for a moment as he put his hand on the doorknob.

"Wait." Groves called wearily. Jack turned around. Groves had a hand on his head, as though he had a bad headache, which he in fact did. "I have never had cause to doubt your word, pirate though you are. But I still cannot believe that Lt. Gillette would ever do something of that sort."

"Fine. 'S your funeral." Jack turned back toward the door. Groves rolled his eyes heavenward, and without a very clear idea of what he was doing or why he was doing it, he grabbed a heavy overcoat- one without military decoration- and followed Sparrow out the door.


	18. Pirate

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I own Henri, a pub, a ship, and a cottage. Notice how none of them appeared in the actual movie. That's because they're mine and I don't own the movie.

OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 18: Pirate

Elizabeth stomped back to her room, throwing various and sundry items into a rather large trunk. The first things to go in were anything that was even remotely connected with Jack: the scraps on linen that he had brought her, the pirate books and maps, the compass that he had left sitting on her table one night and refused to take back. Elizabeth picked it up and opened it. A compass that didn't point north.

"Why don't you want it back, Jack?" she had asked.

He had shrugged, sprawled in the kitchen as he usually was. "Never going back, love."

Elizabeth placed the compass between the folds of a petticoat, covering it gently. Turning, she scanned the room for any other artifacts. Satisfied that there were none, Elizabeth turned to her other belongings. In went Will's hat and jacket, his sword, his small knife, his wedding band, several of her petticoats and dresses, the pearl necklace Will had saved up to buy her. He had given it to her the day he sailed away.

_"Will, it's beautiful." She smiled up at him, her fingers resting on the strand of small pearls._

_Will smiled shyly at her. "Almost as beautiful as you are."_

_"Will, you're making me blush." Elizabeth looked down, then up coquettishly. "Come back to me, love."_

_"Always."_

She stared at it for a moment, the small opalescent pearls glowing softly against the linen of the gown. She reached back into the trunk and took them out. Kissing the strand softly, she strung it around her neck. She might love Jack now, but it was not the same. Will was her first love, her true love, and as fiery or passionate as any subsequent affair, part of her heart would always belong to the shy blacksmith who had won it first.

The pearls around her neck, she surveyed the room for anything else she might need. She couldn't take anything from any other part of the house- Gillette would surely notice, and it would give the impression that she had something to hide, something worth running for. Jack the pirate king was certainly something worth running for.

Poking her head out the bedroom door, Elizabeth caught sight of a young soldier. He was 18 if he was a day, and a young 18 at that.

"Soldier." Elizabeth motioned him over. The soldier glanced about, then determined who was calling him.

"Yes, ma'am?"

"I need someone to help me get my things up to my father's. I don't know how long I shall be there, so there is a fair amount of items."

"Certainly, ma'am. I shall have to go to Lt. Gillette to ask permission."

"Very well. I shall be in the parlor." Elizabeth swept out of the room toward the 'parlor', which was little more then a few chairs and a loveseat squashed together near the entryway.

The soldier returned in ten minutes, with Henri trailing him.

"Lisette, my dear. Let us get your trunk to your father's. I am terribly sorry about all of this. The lieutenant asked to apologize, and-"

"Mrs. Turner?" the young soldier had been standing in the corner, and was looking toward the door.

"Yes?" Elizabeth tried not to let the frustration with Henri seep through her voice.

"There's someone who wants to see you."

"Show them in." Elizabeth sank into a nearby chair, cradling her head in her hands. She heard several voices in the hallway, and they seemed to be discussing something, though to judge by the escalation of volume, it was not the most friendly of discussions. Suddenly, Elizabeth snapped.

"For God's sake, come in if you are going to come in or leave if you are not! All I want is my house back to myself, with no soldiers here as though I were under arrest."

"What an apt statement, Mrs. Turner." Lt. Gillette stepped through the door into the parlor. "I was about to inform you of your suspected involvement in the escape of Jack Sparrow. We suspect you have been harboring him, as well as aiding and abetting him. We will be taking you down to the fort for some questioning and-"

"You will not!" Elizabeth attempted to shake off the hand that held her wrist in a vice-like grip. Gillette simply clamped down harder, pulling her slightly off of the seat. Elizabeth bit her lip to keep from crying out and stared up at him, anger flashing through her eyes. "Let go." She said in a low voice.

"Lisette, it would be good if you would do as the lieutenant says." Henri said, his voice low to match hers, but with a menacing quality that she had lacked.

"Lt. Gillette, you will let her go now. As an officer in His majesty's Royal Navy, I should think you would know better." Captain Groves stepped through the doorway. Gillette and Henri whirled around to see who had walked in. In doing so, Gillette wrenched Elizabeth's wrist. She cried out.

"Dear God, man. Let her go." Groves gripped Gillette by the collarbone and whipped him away from her. Elizabeth sank back down into the chair, rubbing her wrist, which had turned very pale and was slowly regaining color, until it was bright red. "Soldier." Groves motioned to the lad who was still standing in the corner. "Please bring the lieutenant back to the fort. I want him placed in his office with the door locked, and two sentries outside the door. Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir." The soldier held Gillette by the elbow. Gillette shook the hand off, a look of disgust on his face. Suddenly, he turned to Henri.

"You rat. You were afraid I would reveal your identity, and then you turn around and reveal mine. Fine. Here's what this pompous ass didn't want you to know, Captain." Gillette spit out the word captain like a dirty word. "This is Henri d'Alphonse, nee Adrian Lyon, nee the captain of the frigate _Boston_. This is the bastard that killed your friend, Groves. He was supposed to bring me Sparrow, proving you to be incompetent, giving me the captaincy that should have been mine! It was mine, but Norrington always liked you better. There was no _earthly_ reason that you should have received that commission, Theodore, and you _know_ it! It was mine by right."

"Wait, this is the Frenchman?" Groves asked.

"Dammit, that's what I said, isn't it?" Gillette was turning red in the face from screaming so much. "I'm sure he's told you all about how he was going to turn over Sparrow to me and in exchange he was getting his reward for killing the Commodore and a letter of marque."

"You would betray your own country like that? You would betray_ James_ like that?" Groves looked disgusted.

"He betrayed me, the bastard."

"Where were you going to get a letter of marque? You can't issue them."

"The French would have reinstated d'Alphonse's marque, if paid enough."

"How- no, no. Soldier, get this man back to the fort now. Throw him in solitary confinement, three guards. If what he's saying is true, then we'll have to investigate most of the men stationed here." Groves rubbed the bridge of his nose. "Take him away."


	19. In Pursuit of the Frenchman

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I own Henri, a pub, a ship, and a cottage. Notice how none of them appeared in the actual movie. That's because they're mine and I don't own the movie.

OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 19: In pursuit of the Frenchman

Elizabeth sat in her chair, stunned. All of this was what Jack had told her, and she had ignored him. She had been so blinded by the idea of getting off the island, the idea of showing him up, that she had ignored the wolf in sheep's clothing that stood in front of her.

"Henri-" Elizabeth started weakly, looking up to where her fiancé had stood. He was gone. "Henri!" she cried, springing up. Groves looked up and saw that his pirate was gone.

"Soldiers! Out of this house now! The man known as Henri d'Alphonse is wanted for the murder of the Commodore four years ago. Find him now!" Groves looked around distracted. He left, darting through the front door and making a beeline for the harbor, afraid that, like so many times before, the Frenchman would slip through the unsuspecting lines.

Elizabeth sat for a moment, watching the soldiers leave her house as quickly as they had come. She let out the ghost of a giggle as she wondered what her father would think at the picture of mayhem her house had become. Picking herself up, she began to walk through the house slowly, surveying the damage. Though the garrison had only been there for about half and hour, there was still some damage. The dining room was basically intact, though there were several broken plates scattered about. The library only had minor damage, though someone had knocked over several of Will's swords, and some of them looked as though they had been taken off the wall. Elizabeth placed them carefully back onto their mantelpieces. As she glanced around, she found that one sword was still missing. Suddenly, she felt the cool steel pressed against her throat, along her jaw.

"Lisette." She turned slowly so that the steel didn't slip through her skin. Henri held the sword, its delicate point tracing the line of her jaw slowly from one side to the other. Elizabeth stood still, her head high, exposing her neck to the blade. She smiled a small, slightly seductive smile.

"Jack was right about you. You killed my husband, you killed my friend, you tried to kill my lover, and you'll kill me now, I'd wager." She tossed her head back. "Go ahead. I'll die with the knowledge that I was killed for nothing I did, but because the man who killed me wasn't a man at all."

Henri stepped toward her so fast that she didn't see him move. In an instant, he had one hand on her throat and the other still holding the sword, now aimed at her heart. "You let him touch you." He sneered "You let that filthy pirate touch you! You are no better then he, a filthy wench! Well, I have had my share of filthy wenches. I know what to do with them, how to break them." He let his hand slide down her front before sneaking it behind her and ripping at the stays of her dress. The haughty look melted off Elizabeth's face, and she struggled against him. He dropped the sword and grabbed her by the back of her neck and forced her to look at him. Her eyes were full of fear, poorly masked by the haughtiness that she had always strived for. Henri laughed, a laugh that emanated from the back of his throat, taking on a maniacal quality. Suddenly, there was a loud crack: gunfire. Henri stopped mid-laugh, his face still twisted into a sneer, his eyes barely registering the fact that he had been shot. Elizabeth jumped back, and looked up to see Jack holding his pistol in front of him.

"Jack." She breathed. "Oh Jack." She ran forward, flinging herself into his arms. He held her, and this time, neither let go.


	20. Afterward

Broken Faith

Disclaimer: I own Henri, a pub, a ship, and a cottage. Notice how none of them appeared in the actual movie. That's because they're mine and I don't own the movie.

OC/E, J/E, W/E, N/E

Chapter 20: Afterward

A/N: This is it. I want to thank everyone who kept with this thing, even though I didn't update for three months. If you liked this, you might like my other story, An Officer and a Maid. It isn't J/E, but it's something of the same style as this story. It's a Groves/Estrella story. (I know, you're thinking 'what?' That's why there's an author's note at the beginning of that one.) Anyway, here's the last little bit of Broken Faith. Enjoy, and please, please, please review if you liked it, or even if you didn't. Constructive criticism is loverly.

Elizabeth bustled around the kitchen, searching for things to serve with tea. Jack was supposed to come today, and she couldn't just serve him tea and stale bread, though, if she thought about it, he would eat anything she served.

Henri seemed to be a distant memory, as though a decade had passed instead of 6 months. Jack had stayed on in Port Royal for those 6 months, most likely trying to insure that Elizabeth didn't have any unfortunate remembrances. To date, she had not, and she was certain that this was thanks to his presence. In the back of her mind, she knew that there would come a day when he would have to set sail again: for Jack Sparrow to be away from the sea for long was like taking his life from him in inches.

"'Lizbeth." He called from the side door. He breezed into her kitchen the way he always did, like the breeze that carried his ship across the sea.

"Hello, Jack." She said cheerily from her place at the sink. She finished drying a plate and filled it with sandwiches. Turning, she found that Jack was rather pensive today. It radiated out of him. Suddenly, she felt the pit of her stomach drop.

"You're leaving today."

"Yes."

"I'm coming with you."

"No. You can't."

"I can make it, Jack. I can live on a ship. I can cook for your crew, I can sew up sails, I can- please, just let me come. What about us?"

"Us." Jack snorted. "Us? There can't be an us."

"Why not?" Elizabeth felt the tears rolling down her cheeks, but didn't bother brushing them aside.

"Do you remember when I left you with Will at the top of the fort and told you it wouldn't have worked out?"

"Yes." She sniffled, sensing his next words. Jack took her hands in his.

"I was joking then. I'm not now." The tears kept coming, and Elizabeth tilted her head down so that he wouldn't see.

"Elizabeth." She looked back up. There were matching tears slowly stealing down his cheek. "It wouldn't work out. No matter how hard we tried. The sea's too great. You think you can live out there with me, but you can't. There are very few things you can't do, darling, but this is one." He kissed her cheek lightly. She opened her mouth to protest, but he held his finger to her lips.

"I'm trying to be noble, that's hard enough. Don't make this harder for me." He lifted her chin so that their eyes met, and she saw in his eyes a reflection of her own sorrow. He kissed her once more on the forehead, and left.

Jack Sparrow did a very rare thing. He walked down the path to the beach. Finding it deserted, he stood at the sea's edge, the water lapping against his ankles. He looked out to sea, reliving those moments with Elizabeth. As he did, he felt something bump against his foot. Looking down, he saw a perfect half shell. As he reached down to grab it, the water moved it slightly further out. He followed it. Before he realized it, he stood up to his knees.

"Come to me, my love." She seemed to beckon. And as in the past, he ran to her. She knew what he needed, how to comfort him, how to love him. And he realized he could never have this with anyone but her.


End file.
